


From Sand to Glory

by lovesrogue36



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5773267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesrogue36/pseuds/lovesrogue36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of loosely related ficlets revolving around Finn and Rey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Encouragement

**Prompt: Encouragement**

_“You can do it.”_ It’s an enthusiastic shout in her headset, cheering her on as she swings the _Falcon_ into a complicated barrel roll, TIE fighters on their tail. (There are always TIE fighters on their tail these days, what with Luke being a huge target and Finn being a fugitive and their broken-down, piece-of-shit ship being all too recognizable.)  


_“You can handle it.”_ It’s a whisper, his voice low in tight, intimate corners when she’s down and frustrated because the Force just doesn’t work for her the way it works for Luke. When he puts his hands out, he controls the physical world around them. Rocks and trees and water, all bend to his will. When she tries to tap into that same energy, all she gets is a barrage of chaotic voices and a migraine. She vents her worries, that she’ll never be a Jedi, that she’ll never be good enough to defeat their enemies, and Finn just insists she can handle it. She thinks he’s a liar, but she feels better anyway. 

 _“You can handle anything.”_ It’s a silent promise, a nudge at the edge of her consciousness. He’s lightyears away, but she can hear his voice anyway. Reassuring, encouraging. The lightsaber she built is clutched in her hand, glowing quietly in the still night air. She finally got the hang of that clear head thing and the battle that lays before her sketches itself in her mind. The sad, misguided man who is her enemy unwittingly gives up his plans before he even knows she’s here. She can handle him, especially with Finn there in spirit to remind her of her own strength. 

 _“I always believed in you.”_ It’s the first thing he says when she steps off the _Falcon_ , wrapping his arms around her so tight she can hardly breathe. She thinks maybe he was a little bit worried after all, but he never wavered in his encouragement of her, not even when _she_ was certain she would lose the battle.  


He asks later, after all the congratulating and back-slapping is over, whether she could hear him. Whether she knew he was trying to speak to her from so far away. Rey reaches up to place both hands on his cheeks and pulls him down to rest his forehead against hers. _“I always hear you.”_  



	2. Struggle

It's a struggle, every day. It's a struggle not to hoard food in her pockets as she goes through line in the mess hall. It's a struggle to stand under a stream of water and not feel inordinately wasteful. It's a struggle to make eye contact, to smile and nod, even to people she has yet to be introduced to. It's a struggle to crawl into a warm bed at night, with clean sheets. They're _too_ soft; she has trouble sleeping without the scratch of the ancient threadbare blanket she slept under for so many years.

These things are all luxuries, she realizes. She should be grateful to the Resistance, to Poe and to Leia, for making sure she's comfortable and well cared for. But she finds herself struggling with luxury.

When she was a little girl, she would have traded just about anything for this sense of community. But she finds herself struggling with the accolades and the sheer number of voices that surround her.

\--

It's a struggle, every day. It's a struggle not to slam his mouth shut and snap a salute as the General walks by. It's a struggle to relax his shoulders and breathe easy, even when they're off duty. It's a struggle to show his face to everyone, not just his close friends, but _everyone._ He's lived in a mask most of his life, after all. It's a struggle to raise a question during a meeting, even when he knows his thoughts are perfectly valid and even welcomed.

The Resistance is still an army and he is still a soldier. But he is not _just_ a soldier here; he can speak his mind, when appropriate, and he can be himself, always. He should be grateful for all of it, for the acceptance and the trust. Still, he struggles.

\--

They are not outcasts, not so far as Poe or Leia or Jessika or BB-8 is concerned. But Finn and Rey do not always fit into their new roles the way they think maybe they should. Some nights, whether they find themselves on D'Qar or Ord Mantell or that wretched wasp's nest, Coruscant, they whisper these struggles to each other, as if they are shameful.

Rey blinks back tears, cheap motel sheets pulled up over their heads and her face buried in his chest. She wishes she could just accept it all gracefully, but she always was obstinate. She even turned down the job Han offered her before he died. She thinks her struggles mean she's ungrateful.

Finn squeezes her tight, huffing a hot breath against her temple so the sheets puff up around them in the dark. He wishes he could be as dedicated and devoted as the rest of the Resistance members seem to be. Sometimes he still wonders if he could just run far enough away that the First Order couldn't find him, and then none of it would matter. He thinks his struggles mean he's a coward.

But in the morning, they push the covers off and he kisses her forehead and they resume their mission, whatever it might be this week. Because whatever their struggles, so long as they can whisper them in the dark, they are never insurmountable.

 


	3. Troubled Past

What makes a child a child? Is it their age? Or is it the allowance afforded to them to behave like a child? If a child is expected to behave like an adult, does that make them somehow neither child nor adult?

\--

When Rey was 5 years old, she was left on a dry, dusty planet with no family and no last name.

When she was 7 years old, she spent 472 days of the 484 day year carrying scavenged loot on her back because everyone in Niima said she was too little to fly a speeder on her own.

When she was 9 ½ years old, she struck out by herself, into the dangers of the desert, and made a home of her very own in the metal husk of an old Imperial war machine.

When she was 14 years old, she nearly convinced a refueling space pirate to take her off this forsaken Hell but she chickened out at the last minute. She always did think her family would come back for her.

\--

When Finn was 2 years old, he was taken from his home to a cold starship in the deep of space, never to hear his given name again. (He does not remember this, not even in his nightmares, but it is perhaps the defining moment of his young life.)

When he was 8 years old, he had a blaster put in his hands for the first time. He nearly shot his captain in the foot and was put in detention for two weeks.

When he was 11 years old, he was sent out on a field mission with the medteam. He saw eight soldiers die that day and sewed his first fifteen stitches.

When he was 13 years old, he refused to wear his helmet because he said it was too hard to see with all the sweat in his eyes. He was sent to reconditioning _‘for having a smart mouth.’_ He stole his official report, just so he could read that note to himself at night.

\--

What does it mean to have a childhood? What does it mean to grow up too fast or to face the world too soon? Who decides what is too soon?

All Rey knows is that if she ever has a little girl, she will coddle her like no little girl has ever been coddled. But she will still teach her how to take somebody out at the knees, whether it’s with a lightsaber or a quarterstaff.

All Finn knows is that henceforth he’s going to take every little boy and girl stolen from their families as a personal insult and the First Order had better believe he’s started keeping count. So when he flies off with a seat-of-his-pants plan to rescue future stormtroopers, Rey is going to be right there at his side.

Because she knows what it is to grow up too fast, to grow up alone. And because where else would she be, but at Finn’s side?


	4. New Clothes

Finn’s been pacing by the hangar bay door for at least an hour, his shuffling feet wearing a path through the dust. Her transmission said she would be in at 1800 hours but he’s not sure if that was standard time, D’Qar time or wherever-the-hell-she’s-been time. It’s quarter to 1900 now and if she doesn’t show up soon, Finn thinks his head is going to explode.

There’s a quiet, off-rhythm whir in the distance and his ears perk up. He’d know that sound anywhere but he also thought he heard it four times in the last twenty minutes. This time it’s real though: a grey dot trailing smoke appears on the horizon, zooming towards him almost faster than he can register it. The _Millenium Falcon._ And _Rey._ She’s _back._

Finn practically dances out of the way as the ship slows and touches down inside the hangar. He’d be worried about the smoke pouring off the back but it appears to be coming from one of the taillights so. Just the _Falcon_ up to her usual aches and pains then. The ramp descends slowly and it’s a painful fourteen seconds before R2-D2 rolls down, beeping a greeting. Chewbacca is close behind, waving a large, furry hand at Finn before ducking off to find General Leia, presumably.

Finally, Rey appears and pauses at the top of the ramp, hands knit together in what he assumes is nervousness?? _What does she have to be nervous about?_ Finn wonders in disbelief. He was the one who’d been passed out and had to be rescued the last time they were together.

She walks down the ramp one step at a time, as though she’s really thinking hard about each footfall, until she’s right in front of him. She looks serious, brows drawn together. The lightsaber is strapped to her hip. That’s new, but it makes sense. Her clothes are new too; new to him at least. They’ve clearly seen some wear and tear. The heavy grey fabric is smeared with mud and grass stains; he thinks she’s probably pretty proud of those, given her attraction to all things green.

“So!” he hears himself say out loud after what is probably a socially unacceptable long pause. “New threads, huh?” Finn could really smack himself in the head right about now. _New threads? That’s what you’re going to say to the recently returned Jedi who saved your life and is beautiful and no-nonsense and_ gods _._

Rey grimaces, or smirks, he’s not really sure, it could go either way. “Yeah, uh, you too. Well, sorta.” She motions to Poe’s jacket and now it’s a smile, he can say that for sure. “Guess they got it stitched up all right, huh?”

He spins around on one foot, gesturing to the giant Rebel insignia that’s been used to patch the lightsaber rip through the back of the jacket. “Yep! I’m all official now.” Finn turns back around, wide grin quickly fading back to seriousness. It feels serious, this moment. Seeing her again. Seeing how she’s changed. “You look… different,” he murmurs finally, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch her arm.

She pauses, narrows her eyes at him and he has the distinct impression he’s being sized up. It’s like Jakku all over again. “You look the same,” she says, and squeezes his hand in hers.


	5. Independent

She’s been on her own since she was five. At least, she thinks she was five, when they left her there on Jakku. Her _family_. All these years, Rey spent pining after a sense of belonging, a sense of people who were hers, but it’s not as if she curled up into the fetal position and gave up on her lonely existence either.

Sure, she spent a lot of evenings pretending she could see the ship that had left her there landing on the horizon and her family walking out, hesitant, afraid she would hate them for whatever horrible thing had driven them to abandon her on Jakku of all places. In her mind, she would let them come to her, let them feel sorry, but she would always forgive them, always take them in her arms and feel relief.

But in the morning, she sets her daydreams and pretend games aside and gets to work. Unkar wasn’t the one who taught her all about the inner guts of starships; that was the droid she salvaged out of the back of a burned out x-wing. No one thought it would ever boot up again but she tweaked and rewired and got it talking, all on her own. Little KR-55 was her constant companion, until Tito stole him and broke him up for parts. She didn’t have some romanticized mentor or pseudo-family. Just fellow workers and people to avoid. (Well, there was the co-pilot on that starship that refueled on Jakku last year. He taught her a few things too.)

So when this awkward Resistance fighter grabs her hand in the middle of a firefight, Rey’s really not sure what to do about that. She doesn’t know how to run alongside someone, how to fight alongside someone. She knows how to protect her own back, not how to have someone else’s. But there’s a loneliness in Finn that she recognizes. So she runs with him, flies away with him, and Force help her, she only thinks about going back to Jakku in the spaces between her heartbeat, in the deepest darkest depths of space that are as far removed from her old home as possible.

By the time he finally spills the beans about his big, giant lie, she’s too invested in keeping hold of him to do anything but forgive him on the spot. It’s not even that big of a lie compared to the ones she’s told herself all these years. Pretending that they’ll come. Pretending that she wants them to.

And when he’s lying in the medbay, all the monitors around him beeping in quiet unison, she knows she’ll never go back. Not just back to Jakku, back to a life of solitude. But she’ll never go back to being an independent soul, a single person afloat in the galaxy. Finn and Rey are linked irrevocably now and for the first time in many years, she knows she has a family who will never leave her side, even when they’re lightyears apart.


End file.
